Dear Ferret Folks-

It's been a while since I checked in -- as many of you know I am
Manic-Depressive which is like being Bi-Polar, only it sounds better
I think. Whose dumb idea was it to change over to Bi-Polar anyway? I
think of a double assed polar bear every time I hear it. I suspect the
government was involved. But I digress...

ANYWAY, fall is the time for the dreaded seasonal med change. Sometimes
that works beautifully, and I wind up reasonably comfortable and
functional for the dark winter months. Then again, sometimes I just
wind up pole-axed, and have to roll the dice with *another* med combo
until I get a good result. This first combo left me exceptionally pole
axed, and I spent a few weeks just lying in my hammie, tail hanging
limply, whiskers drooping. I am lead to think of my favourite Monty
Python moment, which has great meaning for any of those of us who rely
on psychiatric medication for quality of life:

I'm feeling much better, I may go for a walk....
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=grbSQ6O6kbs

I *am* feeling much better. But while I basically gave up on the
computer for a while, (too cooomplicated...) I still had to deal with
the fish, the cat, the dog, the chickens, and of course, the ferrets.
None of these parties give a rat's ass how I might be *feeling* at any
one given time, they have needs which much be met daily. By me. My
husband has a job outside the house. Mine is *inside* the house.

All those critters must be cared for. The cat wants chow and *water*,
which he prefers to get from the toilet. The dog also prefers toilet
water, which I think of as Pet Perrier. I love my animal friends, so I
don't put any of that blue stuff in the toilet. The dog *also* wants
chow, but not the same as the cat's chow. Well, actually, the dog wants
the cat's chow which is why I keep it up on the counter, next to the
fish tank. The cat does not want the dog's chow. Generally.

Now, the ferrets have super deluxe chow which comes in a box in the
mail from Totally Ferret. It costs a lot more than either the dog's
chow or the cat's chow. Yet, the ferrets want the dog's chow, so I
have to put it up on a different counter when the ferrets are out. The
ferrets also want the cat's chow, which they climb up to on the first
counter and munch. This makes the cat decidedly agitated, but not as
agitated as the dog gets when she finds a ferret grazing in *her* chow.

It makes *me* decidedly agitated when I find a ferret drinking out of
the 55 gallon fish tank, but amazingly, each ferret has only fallen in
once to the best of my knowledge. The ferrets can only get to the fish
tank by climbing a stack of books on the table. They have perfectly
good water in their cage, but they don't want *that*, oh, no. They
prefer to scare the fish to death. I'll admit, it is a hoot to stand
next to the tank and see a ferret snout appear underwater, complete
with licking tongue and little pink snout leaking bubbles. The fish,
thank heavens, are easy. Flakes, flakes, flakes.

And the chickens? Ah, I won't even go there. You have to mulch out the
coop even when you can't *imagine* how much fertilizer and fuel oil it
would take to generate an explosion big enough to blow you out of your
hammie, and outside, to the coop. With your rubber chore boots on.
Gotta land boots *down* or you'll be wearing chicken dookie, which
usually looks like green and white buffalo snots. And is slippery when
you are wearing rubber chore boots.

All this needs to be attended to, and no...actually, I don't resent
it. I am grateful for it, because it grounds me when I am floating six
inches above the floor because of whatever SSRI I might happen to have
coursing through me veins at any given moment. The dog is so purely,
simply *grateful* for a new, fresh bowl of chow. She lets me know with
her eyes, with her tail. She drops her snout into my hand to whuffle
"thank you" with her soft lips. Then she bends, and begins to crunch.

When I fill the cat's dish he bangs his head against my hands, purring
and thwacking his tail against the counter. When his belly is full he
comes to leap up onto mine, and to knead me with his feet until I reach
the desired consistency, I suppose. Yeah, he slobbers a little bit when
he purrs, but the joy he expresses is genuine, and blessedly
uncomplicated.

And the ferrets? It doesn't take much energy to stand and wave a towel
like a Matador's cape, or to make the bed, of to do any of the other
things that make a ferret insanely happy, like tossing a few plastic
wal-mart bags on the floor when I have *no* energy. They have the
energy. They *always* have the energy, and it re-charges my batteries
just watching.

My small animal friends? They are always the right prescription,
always.

Alexandra in Ma

[Posted in FML 6496]